Didn't Even Say
by AlfredSamaNoBaka
Summary: I didn't even tell him that I loved him back... Angsty as hell. US/UK


I don't know why I let this happen. I'm the hero... it wasn't supposed to happen this way. I should have acted when he stood in front of me, but I was unable to move... it was as if something was telling me _not_ to save him. I should have saved him... I thought I was the hero.

We were fighting side-by-side... although, I think his was partially my fault. I was provoking the other side. England would look over every once in a while and say something like, "Shut up, moron," or,"You're only making it worse, you bloody twat."

I laughed at that though. I would think, 'I'm the hero. I don't need to worry about things like that.'

England was right. England was always right. I was only giving myself more work to do. I didn't mind it though, because it made me look good in front of England... not that he really gave a shit about what I did...

I can still remember that look he wore when he noticed that one Japanese soldier... did he have to notice? It would have been easier for me if he hadn't.

I had asked him, "England? Is something wrong?"

I saw his emerald eyes darken a little bit, but he continued to fight. I remained oblivious to what was going on. I didn't notice the Japanese soldier ready to strike, and I didn't notice England ready to protect... I didn't know... I thought he was fighting. I didn't know he was preparing for impact.

It all happened so fast... too fast. Before I knew it, England had jumped in front of me, and I stared at him wide-eyed, unsure of what he was doing until I took notice of the Japanese soldier and the sword that had run through England. I stared in horror, and I was unable to move, and my body was screaming for me to do something.

The Japanese soldier pulled his sword from England, and the smaller nation who used to be so big, fell back into my arms. I wasn't too clear on what happened after that... all I remembered doing was grabbing the gun and the Japanese man dead in front of me. I ignored my actions for once and laid all my attention on England.

Blood was streaming from his lips and his eyes were a extremely dull green. His stomach was bleeding excessively, but he was still breathing... barely, but he was breathing.

"A-Alfred?" his voice came out weak and raspy, almost like his appearance. I wasn't really sure what to make of his appearance...

"England!" I heard myself shout. Why did I sound so scared? I'm a hero... heroes are never scared... but then why were tears streaming down my face? Heroes don't cry either... but heroes also don't let other people save them.

"Why did you save me!? I could have saved myself!" I shouted, trying to feign anger.

England laughed at me. It was a sad laugh... almost as if _I _was the one dying... wait, no. England isn't dying. He's injured badly, but not dying. England is too strong to die... I would know, because I am the hero.

"St-still as headstrong as ever," England let out. He was forcing himself, "I don't know why- I just... got mad, so I-" he winced in pain, "-moved..."

"Don't talk..." I ordered him. He smiled again. Why was he doing this to me? This wasn't England... it couldn't be England. It was absolutely impossible. England wouldn't have done this for me... I wouldn't have... but wait... yes I would, would I? No... of course I would. I'm the hero... I'm definitely the hero.

"I'm so-sorry... America," he winced again... and was that a tear? What was he sad about? Yeah, he was dying and all, but... he brought this upon himself. If he didn't want to, he didn't have to. If I was in his position I wouldn't be crying, I would be proud. Wait... not proud... hell, _proud? _Yeah... England should be proud.

"England... what the hell are _you_ sorry about? You saved me..." I didn't want to finish. The thought of England saving me was too much. The reason why he did it was far beyond my knowing.

England smiled. Why was he smiling if he was crying? Shouldn't he be sad? Why would he be sad?

"You really are dumb, Alfred," England winced in pain after and I clutched his hand in mine. I don't know why... I just did.

"You won't die here, England. I'll make sure of it!" I said. I ripped off my bomber jacket and put it around England. Gently, I turned around ad made England get on my back. I could feel his blood staining my shirt, but I ignored it and ran to safety. I needed to save England.

I ran off the battlefield, ignoring the other soldiers and dodging every bullet coming at me. England's head was leaning on my shoulder and I could hear him breathing in my ear. It was a pained and muffled kind of breathing... and I hated it. It made me remember the Revolutionary War. It made me remember the way England fell to his knees crying... why was he crying? Oh yeah... because I left him. He should have been a better caretaker.

We made it to a safe place and I set England down, and then I observed the damage. It was bad... it was really, really bad. The gash from the sword was still bleeding. I couldn't believe he was still alive.

Carefully, I cut his shirt open with my pocketknife, and gave myself a better view of his wound. The gash was big and it made me sick to my stomach. I gulped and I searched through my backpack, looking for something to bandage him with. It took a while, but I found it.

I unraveled the bandage and lifted England, and gently making sure I wasn't hurting him, I bandaged his waist. He winced once I was finished and I couldn't help but bite my lip. I shouldn't have been so sad... I gave him up a long time ago.

"A-Alfred?" his voice came out low and weak. A little part of me died when he said my name like that.

"Yes, England?" I asked, trying to sound as if I didn't care. I was failing... I was failing miserably. In fact, I was starting to choke on my own tears.

His hand slowly came up to touch my face and he wiped my tears away. He gave me a soft smile.

"Don't cry f-for someone l-like me... you're strong A-Alfred... stay strong," England winced again and his hand fell from my face and he started to roll over in pain. Why was he doing this to himself? I grabbed both his shoulders and held him down, to keep him from making his wound open more.

"England!" I shouted at him. He looked like he was in so much pain. I had two options: put the Brit out of his misery(which I wasn't planning on doing) or try my best to cure him even though it would be a failure in the end. I was no failure though. I wasn't planning on killing England either. I didn't want to see my old caretaker die before my eyes... I had always told myself in the past that I wouldn't care what happened to England, as long as it benefited me, it was okay. I was beginning to question now if that was the truth.

England was still gasping in pain, but had reached for my hand and gave me a broken stare, "I-I love you, Alfred."

I stared in shock. The tears that were once falling had stopped. I don't think I heard him right. He wasn't - no, couldn't - be in love with me. It was impossible. England was the most asexual person I knew. There was no way he could be capable of such feelings, like 'love'. It just wasn't... England.

"Wh-what?" I asked him, pretending to be completely ignorant of what England just said.

He smirked one last time and gestured for me to lean downward, which I did. He leaned forward slowly until his lips were right next to my ear.

"Thank you," he whispered. I smiled at him and he laid back down. I kept my hands around him, as if that alone would keep him alive.

Hours had passed and I hadn't even noticed I fell asleep with England in my arms still. I yawned and looked down at the smaller nation before me. He was pale_... too pale. _I panicked and quickly got up and went to check his pulse... gone. His breathing... gone. All expression or proof he is alive... gone, gone, _gone. _England... _my_ England. Was gone. Forever.

I felt hot tears rolling down my cheeks... I didn't even tell him that I loved him back.

_**Owari**_

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**A/N: Short, sweet, and to the point. Okay... this is my new OTP in case you were wondering. I made this for practice so constructive critism is HIGHLY recommended. No flames... because I promise I will ignore it and go and read your stories and see how good yours are... So... if you have any suggestions for my writing please tell me. I will make future stories longer, btw. Like I said, this is just practice. REVIEW!**


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